


Harmless Fantasies

by potterhead25



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of internal monologues, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Drarry, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Pining Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-08 12:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19869796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterhead25/pseuds/potterhead25
Summary: How can you have a crush on the one person who can expose your family?With the Dark Lord back and the better half of the Wizarding World calling The Boy Who Lived a nutcase, Draco Malfoy must choose between saving his sanity or winning the love of the one person he's always wanted to call by their first name.





	1. 1 ON THE TRAIN

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling.  
> All associated characters are created and owned by J.K. Rowling, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of Harry Potter.  
> This is a work of imagination and does not ascribe to the official story canon created by J. K. Rowling.  
> This story is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.  
> I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story.  
> I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

PRELUDE: ON THE TRAIN

_'You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.'_

_'Yeah,' said harry, 'but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.'_

_Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville laughed. Malfoy’s lip curled. 'Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?' he asked._

_'Shut up, Malfoy,' said Hermione sharply._

_'I seem to have touched a nerve,' said Malfoy, smirking. 'Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I’ll be_ dogging _your footsteps in case you step out of line.'_

_'Get out!' said Hermione, standing up._

_Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering along in his wake._

_-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, J.K. Rowling_

***

Malfoy entered into the Prefect’s compartment, quickly walking over to his seat next to Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle took the seats next to them and sat guffawing about the new first years they’d reduced to tears. 

Noticing Malfoy’s expression, Pansy immediately began to shoot questions ‘What happened? Is everything okay? Why do you look so upset, Draco?’ Her flakiness really irked him. She only showed any concern when she wanted to. Of course, she was liable to feel whatever she wanted to feel but he just wasn’t in a state to entertain her. 

‘Leave me alone,’ said Malfoy. He saw her expression flare out of the corner of his eye before she turned to Blaise. 

_Saint Potter. Who does he think he is to talk to me like that!_ Malfoy knew the answer. _You started it_ , said a little voice in his head.

He thought back to the day he’d first met Potter at Madam Malkin’s four years ago, and then realised it was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the one who defeated the Dark Lord. _Big headed git. No wonder he was in the same compartment as Loony Lovegood. Idiots, the whole lot of them._

All he wanted was to make friends with him all those years ago and he’d been turned down. 

_It’s not like I’d asked him out on a date. He probably would’ve said yes if I had._ No sooner had he thought that he felt his cheeks heat up. A date with Potter? Is that what his inner talks had come to? Clearly he was very upset about what just happened back in that compartment. 

Malfoy stood up and reached into his trunk, pulling out a leather bound book. He sat down, making sure to keep the book hidden from Pansy and opened it somewhere down the middle. It was a special book, charmed to only show it’s contents to the person who used it and jinxed to spew out insults toward whoever else touched it. His mother had bought the book for him to write down how he felt so he could master his temper, because Merlin knows he got so angry sometimes. And afraid. The events of last summer involving the Diggory boy's death and Potter's confrontation with the Dark Lord had left his family in chaos: Potter's little name-call to the Minister himself. 

He wrote down his little exchange with Potter from earlier, things he should have said, the part about “dogging” Potter’s footsteps. His father had told him, about the big black dog. But that wasn’t where his mind began wandering. It went down that forbidden lane that made him blush, of him being bent over a desk and a dark-haired boy taking him from behind, bending forward over him, the scraggly fringe tickling the back of his neck with short rapid breaths till the motions turned faster and jerkier and --

“Draco, snap out of it! What’s got into you?” 

He knew he was blushing and he knew Pansy had noticed it. He ignored her, and continued scrawling in his book. _Just a harmless fantasy. Unless…_

  



	2. TRANSFIGURATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's cooking in the most unexpected of minds.

_Look at him. Just look at him, with his hair sticking up all over the place. Has he never heard of grooming? He’s getting a little stubble too, really highlights his jaw. When did he get that chiselled look? The bone looks like it’s ready to cut through the skin. And it’s not just peach fuzz, he needs a good smooth shave. It must itch like a doxy infestation. He looks tired too. And why does he keep flinching like that? Everyone thinks he’s mad anyway, why’s he making it seem true? Oh look at him sitting up, straightening his back like that… he has really broad shoulders, doesn’t he? He’s not as scrawny as he used to be. I bet he could lift me up, too. Still lean. Almost like it’s skin, muscle and bone. No insulation -- which he ought to have judging by how much treacle tart he wolfs down._

_Merlin, why am I even thinking about any of this? McGonagall's going to see me drooling over him any minute! Drooling? Over Potter? HA! I must be delirious. He’s really grown into his looks though. Even the girls notice him now, more than just the saintly Boy Who Lived. He’s turning to Granger now -- fuck, look at his profile! If my face is as full of angles as Pansy says, Potter’s “acute-y”! Ha, that’s actually funny. Lame._

_“Gorgeous,” she’d say while making a doe-eyed, star-struck face, before that sour expression took over her face again, as if she just walked into the room and smelled cauliflower cooking._

_Ugh, since when do I drool over Potter? I hate the creep and his silly friends. Common as muck, the lot of them. I’ve hated him since the day I introduced myself to him. The creep. So humiliating. It’s a good thing my father never found out about it, he thinks I’m a disappointment anyway. The most he ever congratulated me on was getting into the Quidditch team. Yeah… that was a nice day. And he didn’t even bribe anyone for it. That was nice. He only got the brooms because he was proud of me. Damn, Potter. Those stupid glasses… What was that rhyme again? His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad… Ha! They are though. Green. Hate that shade though._

_McGonagall’s on about the O.W.L.s too now. Ugh, every professor’s been on about them since the day started. Even Potter looks bored. Hmm… easiest way to spark_ his _interest? Maybe I should just say something. I’m sick of fighting with him. We can be friends, can’t we? Maybe not. With benefits?_

_If my father could hear my thoughts… The Dark Lord can read minds. Father said it’s a fate worse than death, to have the Dark Lord into your mind. I believe him. I’d rather eat Flobberworms the rest of my life than let anyone know I have the hots for Saint Potter._

_Fuck. Why does he do this to me?! Ugh, stupid Potter. Why him of all people! Crushing on The Boy Who Lived like some moonstruck 12 year old girl. If someone…. I’ll tear him apart. Bend him over, right on his desk, tear his pants off and pull him by the hair. I’d make him beg for it. Oh fuck yeah. He’d beg for it._

_Damn, this isn’t helping. It’s all his fault. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. It isn’t right. If my father found out about this… If Potter found out… how can he? I haven’t told anyone. I wish I could. No I don’t. It embarrassing. We’d look amazing together, though. Stupid scarhead, I ought t--_

***

A piece of chalk hit Draco smack in the centre of his forehead. 

“Mr. Malfoy, unless you claim to know all about Vanishing Spells, I suggest you _pay attention_.”

Draco his head droop to his textbook on the desk, a flush creeping past his pallor. He’d seen Potter and his friends turn and smirk toward him.

But the time the class had ended, Draco had earned himself a week's worth of detention for not paying attention and Vanishing half his desk while the other half fell hard on Goyle’s foot, cracking the bone of his big toe. He slowly gathered up his books while his fellow Slytherins gave him weird looks while walking past him and out the door. The Gryffindors followed them and Draco shouldered his bag and began to head for lunch himself. 

He walked slowly, taking his time, his mind still raging around why exactly Harry Potter had been the centre of his attention for the past two days. Each time he thought he had an answer he brushed it off. Potter hadn't done anything to him. Of course there was the question of what happened last year, Potter naming Lucius Malfoy a Death Eater. Their influence with the Ministry alone had saved them, attributing it to madness of watching the Diggory boy die. Draco knew the truth. Knew the valiant Hufflepuff hadn’t dropped dead of his own accord. The evidence was right there. And he’d seen Potter’s face when the Portkey had brought him back with Diggory’s body. What did Potter have to gain by claiming the Dark Lord had returned if in fact the Dark Lord hadn’t returned? It had baffled him the entire summer, reading the Prophet and listening to wizards condemn Potter and Dumbledore as a liar and senile fool. Fear was the most powerful weapon the Dark Lord had in his arsenal. Nobody wanted to believe he was back. Draco didn’t either. It terrified him. He knew his father had broached the subject of inducting him into their circle with his mother. The mark. A mission. A weapon. His mother had been furious that night. They never told Draco what happened between them and Draco never bothered. Ignorance was bliss, correct? He knew his time was coming. He wouldn’t be able to stop it if the Dark Lord found out. And he would find out. He could read minds. And his father’s mind was an open book. 

A light tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw McGonnagal towering over him. The hat added another foot to her already impressive stature. Her gaze didn’t seem as hard as before.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’d like to have a word with you in my office.” She didn’t wait for him to answer her; she simply turned on her heel and began to walk toward her office, cloak billowing behind her, somehow never touching the floor. 

Draco quietly followed her, catching up with her and shutting the door behind him as she took her seat behind her desk. 

“Have a seat, please.”

He did. “If this is about my performance in class today--”

“It isn’t,” she cut him off. “I wanted to discuss something rather important with you. Something that may benefit you in the wake of the events of the past few months.”

Draco clenched his jaw. “My family’s previous associations with the Dark Lord have been questioned enough. Either way, I’m not a Death Eater.”

“Evidently. But you are the sole heir to the Malfoy name. You will be the one to bear the burden of the consequences of your family’s _previous_ associations. However, I’m not attempting to threaten you. Far from it, in fact.”

“Oh?”

“You are entitled to make your own decisions and I am not one to influence them. However, you are my student. You may not be in my house, but I do see a fight within you, to prove yourself to be more than the history associated with your family’s name.”

“What are you suggesting, Professor?”

“Have a biscuit.”

Draco blinked twice. “I beg your pardon?”

“Have a biscuit.”

Draco reached for the tin.

“Listen to me very carefully. What I am about to tell you, should you choose to consider my proposal, must remain between the two of us in the strictest of confidence Mr. Malfoy.”

As McGonagall spoke, Draco found himself listening intently to her. He realised something very important. 

_She trusts me._

When she finished talking, she leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving his. A moment passed. Draco swallowed the bitter taste the biscuit had left on his tongue.

“I’m afraid I shall require an answer immediately Mr. Malfoy. Given the circumstances beyond the walls of this castle, whether you believe them or not, we don’t have much time on our hands. Particularly--”

“What if I fail?” Draco said.

“You won’t.”

“What if I do?”

“If nobody knows, you have nothing to lose.” Draco had never seen the woman smile in the four years he’d spent being taught by her. It almost felt genial. Out of pity. It made his palms itch. 

“You have my word, Mr. Malfoy.” The smile had gone as quickly as it had appeared. She never looked away from his eyes. “You will not be harmed.”

His teeth hurt from how hard he’d been clenching his jaw. 

“And the Headmaster?”

“What about the Headmaster?”

“Does he approve?”

If she was hesitant, or reluctant to answer his question, she didn’t show it. “He’s been preoccupied with more pressing matters.”

“What you’re asking of me seems to be quite a pressing matter. Something of his particular interest.”

“Sometimes, it doesn’t hurt to have a different perspective.”

“What if I refuse?”

“In that case, I expect you to keep our conversation just between us. No repercussions. You’d still have your week’s detention, I shall still be your teacher, and you would still be my student. Which would be exactly the same as if you chose to do as I ask of you. Though, I don’t believe you have a mind to refuse.”

He didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey MDRC! Updates are going to slow down a bit and new chapters may be uploaded sporadically because school's about to get really intensive. Thank you for your patience and love <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my dear reader chum! If you liked what you just read, please leave a kudo and/or a comment, it really keeps me motivated to write more and more each day!
> 
> I began writing this in early-mid 2017 and finally began to see a plot for more than just plain old smutty slash (which i do love with all my heart, but there's only so many positions to describe in detail ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯) This little bit was originally inspired by "Saving Draco Malfoy" by the mind-blowingly talented Dayspring right here on AO3 and I've worked up a bit of a plot over the last couple of days.
> 
> Updates are going to be slow, so please bear with me, as I'm juggling two other stories, school and my mental health. 
> 
> I do plan on including a very unconventional pairing at some point. If you have any ideas or would like to see some of them in particular, let me know in the comments. Maybe just some one shot smut scenes between random characters who aren't deeply interconnected with the story.


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